Unguarded
by Rosa Cotton
Summary: Through a time of healing, confronting, and questioning those with whom he travels to Mordor, Frodo continues to succumb to the power of the Ring.


Disclaimer: of course the characters and setting and objects do not belong to me. Tolkien and New Line own them. The only thing that is mine is part of the plot.

Author's Note: This story takes place the same day as the events in _Save_. Yes, this is a sequel. *winks* I must extend a huge thanks to my mom, who proofread this and came up with the title. I hope you all enjoy this; I am still a bit surprised by parts of it. Please let me know what you think. 

~~~ 

Unguarded

Gollum at last calls a halt, and the hobbits gratefully sink to the earth once Gollum has made sure the ground is firm. Sam helps Frodo take off his pack. His master looks dazed and tired; his face is still a little pale. His clothes have dried, but Sam worries of his possibly catching a cold. 

"Mister Frodo?"

Frodo does not give any sign of hearing. His head is bowed; he has stared into space for a long time and has not spoken for the last hour. Sam's brow furrows at his master's lack of response. Sighing, he looks around.

Gollum sits a little ways from the hobbits. He lets out a soft, long whistle between his teeth. He cradles his hand and peers closely at it, examining it. It still hurts, not only from the nasty elf-cloak but also from his crawling on it through the marshes. The grass pricked it, the slimly water did not soothe it, and the soft gooey mud stung it. _It still hurts poor Smeagol; it burns, burnsssssss. _

"Hey, Gollum," Sam calls to the creature.  

Gollum drops his hand and turns toward Sam curiously. He slowly makes his way to where Sam stands over Frodo.

"Yessss, what does massster's friend need? We wonders precious." Gollum says breathlessly as he stops a few feet from Sam. It is becoming harder and harder to ignore the throbbing pain of his hand.

Sam balls his hands in tight fists. He cannot help his blood boiling in silent anger when Gollum calls Frodo "master."  It comes out of his mouth like the hiss of a snake, a snake hidden in the grass, waiting to strike. Sam wills himself to appear calm and keeps his thoughts from his face. "Could we possibly build a small fire?"

"Fire?" Sam is startled when he sees pure fear reflect in Gollum's eyes. "What does hobbit want fire for? We do not want to give ourselves away. No, too dangerous to make fire. Spies will see it; spies will report to the enemy."

"Just a small fire," Sam snaps. "To help warm my master, so he does not catch cold. He is dry, but I do not want to take any chances. Come now, surely just a tiny fire will not be too much?"

Gollum shakes his head. "We would have to search far for wood. No, we will be spotted and captured. They will take us to Him." A haunted and glazed look crosses his face. "Hobbit must try to warm master other way."

Sam is on the verge of losing his temper. "I will not let him become ill!" he retorts angrily, his eyes flashing, unaware of his hand grasping the hilt of his sword and starting to draw it. 

Gollum trembles and backs away, whimpering. "Don't hurt us! Don't be angry with us! Nasty hobbit. What have we done? We are only concerned about hobbits' safety, yesss precious. We are concerned for master." 

"'Concerned for master'!" Sam cries, not bothering to keep his voice lowered. "Now see here! He is not your master. And why are you concerned for him? Because he has what you want, your precious. But you will never have it. You are like a snake." Sam brings forth his sword and holds it up. 

Real terror forms in Gollum's eyes before he spins around and scampers away as fast as he can, though he goes terribly slowly because of his earlier injury. A cry issues from his lips, not so much from fear but from the pain of his hand, and he nearly crumples as he presses his hand in the ground and his weight passes over it. Sam takes two steps after it, ready to end its life right here and now. _The snake, the miserable creature! I will not let him keep with us, waiting to strike. _

"Sam!"

Sam jerks at the feel of strong hands pressing over his in an attempt to stop him. Anger about to boil over, he quickly turns and finds himself staring into Frodo's blazing blue eyes.

"Stop, Sam!" Frodo shouts in a great voice. There is unmistakable fury and confusion in his eyes. 

Sam stops breathing for a second, and then starts panting heavily. He can feel the sweat  forming on his brow. He looks down at the sword he grips in his hands, at Frodo's tightly wrapped around his. He blinks. _What am I doing?_

"What are you doing, Sam?" Frodo asks in a stern, low voice, controlled anger dripping off each word.

Tears form in Sam's eyes. Never had he felt such rage rush through him before. All his thought was bent on – on – _that creature. "I'm sorry, Mister Frodo," he chokes. __What is happening to me? _

"You haven't answered me," Frodo says simply in a steady tone.

Frodo's words cause the tears to fall. Never has he spoken to Sam in such a way before. The hobbit can only lower his head in shame. 

Frodo removes his hands and, with troubled rage in his eyes, gazes at his friend. When he receives no answer, he turns and moves away. 

"Gollum?" he calls out, looking around for their guide. "Gollum!"

He spots Gollum almost out of his sight, just slightly engulfed by the mist. His bright eyes sparkle. He watches the hobbits uncertainly. "Come, Gollum, you shall not be harmed." Frodo glances back at Sam, who has now put his sword away.  

Gollum cautiously comes, slowly, for he uses only his good hand. He stops a few feet from the hobbits; his eyes dart back and forth between them. He refuses to come closer, even though Frodo pleads for him to. He only sits on his legs, body tense, and his eyes are wide and alert. 

Frodo slowly walks to the creature, not wanting to frighten him. He kneels so that he is eye to eye with Gollum. He stares at Gollum, who stares back for a few moments before he lowers his head, quavering. 

Frodo regards the former hobbit thoughtfully. He can hear Sam weeping softly behind him. He will deal with his friend later, but he will see to Gollum first.  Frodo is still, wanting to show that he will not do anything sudden.  

"Come, Gollum," Frodo speaks softly. "Master will not hurt you."

Slowly Gollum looks up at him and hops a few steps until they are almost nose to nose. He shifts his weight uncertainly.

"What's wrong with your hand, Gollum?" Frodo frowns.

The creature jerks and, his eyes wide and full of surprise, meets Frodo's gaze. Both Frodo and Gollum look down at the hand in question.

"We only burn our hand on nasty elf-cloak, yesssss preciousssss, when master needed help," Gollum answers, whimpering. He extends his hand slightly. The worried look does not disappear from Frodo's face as he examines Gollum's hand. 

"Stay here," he instructs before he rises and walks back towards Sam and gets his pack. Sam watches the two from under his lowered eyelids. Frodo settles himself on the ground and takes out from his pack his water skin. He also removes a cloth, which he lays down beside him. He then holds out his hand.

"May I see your hand, Gollum?" he asks.

Gollum, silently, slowly lets Frodo take his hand in his and brush his fingers over the thin long hand, caked with mud. Frodo presses down softly. Gollum winces but makes no noise. Frodo tends to the hand, washing it with water and then cleaning it with the cloth. Gollum watches the hobbit work.

As Frodo works, he tries to sort his thoughts about what to say to Sam. He had been in so deep a dream that it was not until the ringing of steel  being drawn forth echoed in the air that Frodo was again aware of the world around him. He had been shocked when he lifted up his eyes to see Sam holding his sword high in his hands and Gollum, looking positively frightened, start to run away. He had no idea what had happened, or really what was happening, to see the two in such a standoff. One second Frodo had been sitting on the ground; the next he knew he had firmly clasped his hands around Sam's and had felt anger rise in him at Sam's unexplainable behavior. Surely he was not going to kill Gollum! When Sam had turned to him, Frodo had been astonished by the look in Sam's eyes. Even now he cannot name it; but whatever it was, it had been directed to their guide. _What had happened?_

Frodo inspects his work. He has rubbed the mud and dirt from Gollum's hand and then soothed the skin with a little water. He is surprised by the texture of Gollum's hand as he holds it in his. Its skin is rough from the creature's using it as much as his feet, but it is also a bit soft. He is surprised that Gollum's skin does not feel slimy as he expected. He can make out faint outlines of bruises on Gollum's palm. What was the cause of the bruises Frodo does not know, nor does he really want to guess. He recalls the fear that flickered in their guide's eyes when he asked him about Mordor. He had been taken there, and tortured, Gandalf had said. Frodo feels pity, wondering how long it has been that the creature's hands have known healing.

He is drawn from his thoughts as Gollum withdraws his hand, flexes his fingers, and gently presses his hand on the ground; he then scampers around, testing his weight on it. He stops before Frodo, and the hobbit sees there is no trace of pain in the gray blue eyes that glow. His lips form something of a smile.

"Our hand isssss all better. We thank…nice hobbit," Gollum says happily. 

A small smile touches Frodo's lips. "You are welcome, Gollum."

He gets to his feet and watches Gollum as he moves into the gathering mist and night, disappearing from his sight. He puts the water skin and cloth back into his pack and stands there for awhile before he picks it up and walks to Sam, who sits dejectedly on the ground. Frodo silently sits down next to him and chews his lower lip. The silence between to two is uncomfortable and intense. 

"What happened, Sam?" Frodo breaks the silence first.

Sam lowers his head until his chin is resting on his chest. He then looks into Frodo's eyes, which are clear – like they were so often before the left the Shire, before the hardships and pain and grief they witnessed, before Frodo started drifting from this world and was poisoned by evil whisperings – but also full of confusion. 

"I-I am sorry, Frodo. I became angry at Sti— I mean Gollum." Sam shifts his weight uneasily at catching a sharp look in Frodo's eyes. 

"Why were you angry with him?" Frodo asks. 

Sam cannot hold Frodo's intense gaze. He is nervous by the lack of emotion he shows. Just when Frodo became aware of Sam and Gollum's altercation and what he thought about it, Sam does not know; nor does he have the courage at the moment to ask.

"I wished to build a small fire so you could keep warm. I asked Gollum if he could find us some wood. He said it was too dangerous, that we could possibly be spotted by a spy," Sam says.

"He is right," Frodo says simply, the first praise he has given to their companion.

Sam blinks in shock but only continues. "I became upset then. I frightened him. He said we would have to keep you warm another way." A pause hangs in the air. "He called you master, and I drew my sword," Sam finished in a whisper.

"Staying unseen is more important than having a fire. Why did you threaten him with your sword?" Sam can hear the edge in Frodo's low voice:  he is upset.

"Because of what he called you – master. What right does he have to call you that? He pretends concern for you. But he is a tricky one."

"He has sworn to help us. He will not harm us because of the promise he made…on the precious." A pale green light appears in Frodo's eyes as he finishes. 

Sam shivers. He has seen that light before in Gollum's eyes; it is another way that the two are alike. Sam is unnerved by this realization. He cannot understand how Frodo can seem so trusting of the creature. There seems to be nothing of worth in him. Yet it seems to Sam that Frodo has started paying more attention than necessary to their companion. 

"He may call me master, Sam. And it seems he did not intend injury to you or me. I hope you will not act so rash again. It is very unlike you," Frodo says, obviously ending the discussion. 

Sam watches Frodo clutch the fabric of his chest where the Ring, unseen, hangs. He is hurt  by  Frodo's reaction to what Gollum calls him: Gollum hardly knows him and yet calls like a beloved servant. But Sam is also resentful of the Ring:  Frodo does not think or act as he used to; all he cares about is the Ring. It is such a small, simple thing, but it is also a very dangerous thing to have so great an influence on one's mind. 

"Yes, Mister Frodo," Sam says, dejected. "I am just worried about you."

~~~ 

The rest of the evening passes without event. Frodo eats only a little of lembas bread, for Sam's sake. But he is not hungry. Sam is silent, though his worry deepens. Frodo has claimed not to be hungry for over two days. Everything he does he does as in a dream. It is when he feasts his eye on his Burden that he seems aware of things --  be they of this world or of the shadow, Sam can only guess. Frodo is content to sit in silence and give his undivided attention to the band he carries. He sometimes appears to be listening intently to a voice which he alone hears. 

Frodo lies down for the night, wandering in another dream. Sam lies down, gazing at Frodo's back for awhile. He is certain Frodo is not asleep; he is most likely doing what he has done the last few nights. Drowsiness overcomes Sam, and he falls into a wistful slumber, disturbed by what the coming days will hold. Frodo does not sleep. Instead, he admires the Ring, cradling its weight in his hand. He stares fixedly at it and brushes his finger tenderly over it again and again. 

"SSSSSo bright, so beautiful –"

Frodo, startled by the voice that breaks into his trance, tucks the Ring away and lifts his head to see Gollum with his back to him a little ways off, stroking his hand in a similar fashion. 

"— our precioussssssss," Gollum hisses. 

"What did you say?" Frodo says in a low sharp tone and gets up, walking towards the creature…

THE END  


End file.
